


I Wanna Grow Something Wild And Unruly

by DazzleYourMindsEye



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alcohol, Anti-Faunus Racism (RWBY), Beehaw Week 2020, F/F, Horses, Mentions of past abuse, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Recreational Drinking, Swearing, collection of prompts, prompt, some connected to each other some not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:34:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25412482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DazzleYourMindsEye/pseuds/DazzleYourMindsEye
Summary: A collection of prompts for Beehaw Week!
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long
Comments: 12
Kudos: 79





	1. Day 1 Prompt: Bandit and Country Girl

**Author's Note:**

> Yeehaw folks it's BEEHAW WEEK! Day 1 Prompt: Bandit and Country Girl! I chose to incorporate this prompt into my current beehaw fic, On Wings of Gold, or my Sky Cowboys AU. You don't have to have read it to understand this, just know that in this universe all the horses are winged and referred to as pegasus or "pegs" and their riders are called "pilots". If you're interested go check out the main story! 
> 
> Happy Beehaw Week everyone, and I hope y'all are staying safe out there! Enjoy!

Yang tugged firmly on Bee’s harness one last time, checking the security of the buckles. The pegasus shifted her weight from one foot to the other but didn’t lift her head from where it hung. Yang gave the mare a gentle pat on her wide neck, shushing her with sympathy.

A long day of flying had tired everyone out. Rosy had already shifted to lay down in the dirt and buried her head beneath her speckled wing and Shadow stood off to the side, pointed black wingtips dragging on the dusty floor.

_Dunno if Blake’ll like that_ , thought Yang glancing over at said girl just in time to catch her exiting the barn doors out into the cool night air to take first watch.

Ruby yawned from her bedroll beside the fire and flopped down to start snoring almost immediately, earning a glare from the pale-haired girl from across the fire.

Yang watched Weiss meticulously taking apart her prized rifle to start cleaning it with the care of a mother with her newborn, carefully inspecting every inch for scratches or dust. The Schnee girl was an… _unexpected_ addition to their party, but had proven herself to be anything but a burden. She was an expert shot with that fancy silver rifle of hers, and they had her to thank for the fat rabbit they had for dinner.

Even if she did complain almost non-stop about pegasus hair on her breeches and twigs in her hair.

Yang’s gaze drifted to the barn doors again. The slats were worn down by decades of wind and dust, just enough to leave gaps between the boards wide enough to spot Blake’s form leaning against the outer wall.

After only a moments hesitation, Yang dug around inside her pegasus’s saddlebags and made a small triumphant noise when her hand closed around a familiar shape. A glass bottle.

Pulling the bottle out of her bags Yang gave Bee one last pat and picked her way across the barn floor. Stopping only to lean down and ruffle a sleeping Ruby’s hair, earning a muffled grumble. Yang gently tugged the thin blanket up over her sister’s shoulder to make it more secure. A nod in Weiss’s direction and Yang slipped through the half open barn doors to the cool night air.

Blake sat against the outer wall, gaze upward at the swath of stars scattered across the night sky. One leg stretched out in front of her and the other bent at the knee propping up her outstretched arm. She glanced over at Yang as she emerged from the barn and the corner of her mouth twitched upward in a half smile. “Aren’t you supposed to be getting some rest?”

“Nah.” Yang flicked her wrist dismissively and slid down the barn wall to sit beside the other girl, fingering the label on the bottle in her hand. “I ain’t sleepy. Thought I’d keep you company for a little while.”

Blake raised a single eyebrow but didn’t comment.

Yang swept her gaze out across the prairie. The old barn stood like a lone sentinel amid a sea of grass, and judging by the marks of previous campfires and scattering of old feathers was a popular spot for traveling pilots. They’d been flying for nearly a full day, and Yang’s bottom and thighs were definitely complaining about the pace. But if they were to stay ahead of Adam…

“What’s that?”

Yang looked over at Blake. “What?”

“That.” Blake gestured to the bottle still in Yang’s hand, forgotten.

“Oh!” Yang gripped the top of the bottle, twisting the stubborn cork. “Snatched it from Schnee’s office.”

Blake watched Yang struggle with the cork for a beat, then snatched it from her grip to take the cork in between her back teeth. It gave with a quiet pop and Blake spit the cork into her palm, handing the now open bottle back to Yang.

Yang stared open mouthed as she quietly took the bottle back.

“What?”

Yang’s face slowly morphed into a grin. “That was kinda hot.”

Blake snorted and stretched her leg out to kick at Yang’s calf. “You shut your mouth.”

To hide her smirk (and her blush) Yang took a swig of the bottle and hummed at the pleasant burn of the whiskey down her throat. “Damn, that’s good stuff.”

“I really don’t think either of us should be drinking while on watch...”

“Ah come on, live a little.” Yang gave Blake a playful wink and a nudge with her shoulder. “I woulda thought a _bandit_ would know how to have a good time.”

Blake scowled but took the offered whiskey bottle. “You enjoy goading me, don’t you?”

“Why yes, yes I do.” Yang didn’t bother to hide her cheeky grin.

Blake rolled her eyes but took a sip of the whiskey. Her eyebrows shot to her hairline. “Wow, this _is_ good.”

“I know right?” Yang made a grabbing motion toward to bottle and Blake handed it over with only mild reluctance. “Schnee might be a bastard but he has good taste.”

“I _heard_ that.” came a sharp voice from within the depths of the barn at their backs. Yang twisted around in her seat.

“Am I wrong?” she retorted. Weiss’s silence was answer enough.

Blake pulled both knees up to hug them to her chest, her amber gaze growing distant as she turned to the stars again.

They sat in silence for a while, broken only by occasional sips of whiskey and the (thankfully _distant_ ) baying of coyotes.

Yang didn’t know if it was the familiarity of weeks of travel with the woman beside her or the whiskey that was making her relax against the barn wall and her limbs to feel all loose, but she found herself watching the side of Blake’s face more than the landscape around them.

“I can feel you staring.”

Yang was suddenly thankful for the darkness as it hid the fierce redness that warmed her face and she jerked her head to face the prairie. “Wasn’t starin’.”

“Uh huh.” Even though she wasn’t looking at Blake Yang could hear the disbelief in ex-bandit’s voice.

Yang slid her finger around the lip of the whiskey bottle in her lap, biting her lip. “I was just thinking...”

“About what?”

Yang took another swig of the bottle in the hope it would give her courage. “Just thinking about… how someone like you gets mixed up with bandits like the White Fang anyway.”

“Someone like me?” Blake raised her eyebrow.

“I mean… someone who gives a shit about people other than themselves. You’re selfless, Blake. And kind. And courageous. I guess it’s just hard to put the two images together.” Yang swayed a little in her seat, but propped her arm in the dirt to hold herself up.

Blake stared back for a beat, then turned her head away. “I’m not any of those things.”

Yang blinked against her sudden blurry vision. “I think I beg to differ. You wanted Weiss to travel with us to get away from her prick of a father, you stole that damn map from your boss because you didn’t want him to get his hands on whatever it’s leadin’ to, you saved our asses back at that canyon when you coulda split with the map… you just don’t seem the type to ravage and plunder, you know?”

Yang made a grab for the whiskey bottle again but found it gone, now suddenly in Blake’s hand and out of her reach.

“I think you’ve had enough.” said Blake in a gentle tone, pushing the cork back in the bottle and setting it beside her, still out of Yang’s reach.

Yang pouted, but leaned back in her seat to mourn the loss of her precious bottle. “It just seems odd you know? Someone like you gettin’ involved with bandits...”

Blake was silent. The two young women sat beside the broken down barn wall listening to the cricket chorus for a while. Yang had nearly dozed off, but Blake eventually nudged her awake. “Go to bed, Yang. I’ll wake you when it’s your turn for watch.”

Yang grumbled a bit but slowly stood up from the wall, wincing at the pull of tired muscles in her legs. She was steadier on her feet than she expected, and she trudged to the barn door.

“Hey Blake?” Yang paused before slipping through the gap to peer through the darkness at Blake, now little more than vague shape in the darkness.

“Yeah?”

“You don’t gotta answer if you don’t want to. I’m just... happy you’re here.”

Even in the dim light of the stars, Yang thought she could make out the small smile that graced Blake’s lips.

“Me too, Yang. Me too.”


	2. Beehaw Week 2020 Day 2: Horse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ever had a horse as a wingman? Neither has Blake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are folks! Day 2 of BEEHAW WEEK. A little late in the day, but still here! This was super fun to write, and I hope y'all have fun reading it too! 
> 
> As always I hope everyone is staying safe and healthy out there! Enjoy!

Blake took a deep breath through her nose and let it out slowly through her mouth. The warm, clean scent of hay and horses filled her chest with a feeling not unlike that of sitting beside a warm fire, and it brought back countless memories of a childhood spent in these very stables. Playing hide and seek among the haystacks with her father, the pride of finally being tall enough to lock and unlock stable doors by herself, warm puffs of breath against her hairline from curious horses.

It made her feel free in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Blake tucked her hands in the pockets of her jeans and strode into the dim interior of the barn, warm shafts of afternoon sunlight streaming through the skylights in the ceiling and highlighting swirling motes of dust and bits of hay. Several stalls were occupied, bright eyes and swishing tails just visible behind stall doors. But Blake only had eyes for one.

She clicked her tongue softly, and a lean dark head poked through the open top half of the stall door. A familiar nicker.

“Hey there, boy. Did you miss me?” Blake approached the horse slowly, stretching out a hand in offering.

More gray hairs frosted Gambol’s muzzle than she remembered, but the old racehorse’s eyes were bright and his profile just as proud as it had been the day she’d met him all those years ago. His ears pricked forward at the sound of Blake’s voice and he blew out a snort and tossed his head.

Blake lay her hand on his velvety soft muzzle when Gambol eagerly stretched out his neck. Blake swept aside the forelock covering that familiar white diamond right between the old stallion’s eyes and leaned her forehead against it in a pose that came as naturally as breathing. “What do you say we go for a walk, huh? I have so much to tell you...”

Unwelcome memories welled up inside of a small apartment in a smog-choked city, a voice once soft with love and promises now filled with malice and spite. Ghosts of old bruises long healed made her flinch and Gambol pulled back his head to nibble at her hair with soft lips. A familiar motion that harkened back to a time when Blake was much smaller but no less vulnerable.

Gambol’s ears swiveled and he swung his head toward the barn doors. Seconds later Blake’s only slightly less sensitive ears swiveled to join his, picking up the sound of cheery whistling. The barn doors rolled open and an unfamiliar woman stepped through, a blue plastic bucket in hand and a brown cowboy hat perched atop a mess of blonde curls barely restrained by a hair tie. She continued to whistle a tune Blake vaguely recognized, not noticing her or Gambol.

The whistling abruptly cut off when the woman finally turned around and spotted Blake down the aisle. She wasn’t close but Blake could see how her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. The woman seemed to straighten up, squaring her shoulders and fixing her slightly askew hat.

Blake tried not to stare, she really did, but as the girl approached and she made out more details it became increasingly clear just how _attractive_ she was. A bright yellow tank top emphasized her muscular shoulders and arms, tanned and freckled from hours spent outdoors. Tight jeans left nothing to the imagination and Blake watched the sway of her hips like she was hypnotized. A round sweet face and bright eyes that looked almost lilac in the dim lighting of the barn. The girl came to a stop a few feet away (on the other side of Gambol’s broad head) and cleared her throat before thrusting a hand out.

“Howdy! You must be Blake!”

Blake stared at the outstretched hand for a beat too long before tentatively taking the woman’s hand to shake (trying not to notice how how her rough calluses felt kind of _nice_ ) and left her other hand on Gambol’s wide neck – his steady form reassuring. “Yes, and you are…?”

“Oh! I’m Yang! The new ranch hand! Did your dad not mention…?”

“Oh. Right. Yeah he told me.” Blake thought back to that stiff conversation in the car ride from the airport that she had honestly tuned out half of in favor of staring out the window at the achingly familiar landscape and hugging her single backpack like a life preserver. (“Hired a new ranch hand!” Ghira exclaimed after another awkward silence stretched for too long. “Your mom finally convinced me. These old knees ain’t what they used to be.” Ghira paused in his stream of words to take a turn onto a dirt road, passing a worn wooden sign that read _Belladonna’s Horse Rescue_. “A girl about your age. A good hard worker, you two could be friends!” Friends? She was too damaged for _friends_.)

The sound of Gambol huffing brought Blake out of her reminiscing. Yang had stepped closer and was now scratching Gambol’s ears at the spot Blake knew he liked and the old stallion was practically purring.

“He likes you.” said Blake, then internally winced at the asinine statement.

But Yang didn’t berate her or roll her eyes, she just laughed good-naturedly. Blake decided then and there that she liked the sound. “I think so, at least. Me and this old boy have had lots of time to work together, haven’t we bud?”

Gambol nickered as if in agreement and leaned heavier into Yang’s scratches.

“You know, I think I saw him race once.” said Yang. “I was pretty young so I don’t remember it too much, but my uncle liked the races. I remember he was a bit bummed out when they announced Gambol Through The Meadows retirement.”

Blake hummed thoughtfully. “I was about to take him out for a walk, but if that’s your job...”

“Oh no no! Don’t let me ruin it! He’s your horse!” Yang held up her hands in a surrender motion. “Plus that’ll shorten my chore list, so be my guest.” Yang laughed and went to pick up the bucket at her feet. “Don’t tell on me, but your dad is _draconian_.”

Blake couldn’t help a small smile. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Yang winked, but before she could continue on her way Gambol stretched out his neck and – quick as a striking snake – snatched the hat from Yang’s head.

For a moment Yang stood frozen, a look of shock on her face through the tousled gold hair. Then she gave the horse an affronted look. “You old _sneak_! You gain my trust then betray me like this?!”

Gambol jerked his head up and down, causing the hat clenched in his teeth to flop comically.

“Gimme that!” Yang made a halfhearted swipe for the hat, but Gambol absconded into his stall with the pilfered hat, his nickers almost sounding like laughter.

It started like little bubbles in her chest, rusty and unfamiliar. Then it grew into a chuckle, then burst out of Blake’s mouth in a loud hearty laugh as Yang pouted while forlornly staring into Gambol’s stall after her lost hat and the sound of Gambol shuffling happily in his hay.

Yang twisted to dramatically lean against the stall door, clasping a hand to her collar bone. “Betrayed! By my very own! How will I go on?!”

Yang’s dramatic display renewed Blake’s laughter and she had to collapse against a hay bale when it got to be too much.

Yang shuffled sadly over to the bale to join Blake. “Say goodbye to those extra oats I promised you, mister.”

Gambol whinnied from his stall in response.

The laughter felt like a clean wind to Blake, loosening the heavy knot in her chest that had been present from the moment she stepped off the plane and for the first time in years the tears streaming down her cheeks were ones of joy instead of pain.

Gambol was easily persuaded to give up Yang’s hat for some offered sugar cubes, and the owner of said hat was brushing off loose bits of hay and horse spit semi-grumpily when Blake finally led Gambol out of his stall and toward the open end of the barn.

Yang plunked the hat back on her head and returned Blake’s smile with a bright one of her own. When they got close enough Gambol nuzzled Yang’s shoulder.

Yang faked a scowl and lightly pushed at the stallion’s dark muzzle. “Oh no you don’t, you still aren’t forgiven.”

Gambol snorted right in Yang’s face, blowing her bangs back.

Blake chuckled and tugged on his lead line. “Come on Gam, let’s go for that walk and leave poor Yang to her chores.”

At the mention of walk Gambol’s ears perked up and he picked up his pace. From behind them Yang crossed her arms and pouted. “Don’t remind me.”

Blake stepped out into the barn yard, warm late afternoon sunlight streaming down and a playful breeze picking up the ends of her hair. A small group of songbirds swept by above their heads, twittering to each other.

Bees buzzed lazily by the dandelions growing on the side of the road at the base of the pasture fence and Blake felt Gambol perk up and inhale the summer air deeply. Before leading her old friend away she glanced back into the barn to see Yang giving a cheery wave with one hand and her blue bucket in the other.

Being stuck on her parents ranch for the foreseeable future wasn’t looking so bad after all.


	3. Beehaw Week 2020 Day 3: Campfire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A roaring campfire isn't only thing that's hot on the Belladonna ranch - but how close is Blake willing to get before getting burned?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daaaay 3 everyone! This takes place in the same universe as chapter 2! We rejoin Blake and her new friend Yang on spontaneous camping trip, but the fire isn't the only thing that's hot...
> 
> Heads up, there's brief mention of past abuse in this chapter at the very end, but nothing explicit. Adam is a jerk, as always. 
> 
> I hope everyone is staying safe out there, and I hope you enjoy!

“Are you sure about this?”

Blake hugged herself as she watched Yang stack a pile of sticks, tongue sticking out the side of her mouth in an adorable look of concentration.

Yang began stuffing dry grass into the open spaces in between the sticks of her “campfire tent” (as she had cheerfully called it) and tossed her mane of blonde hair over her shoulder in an overly casual manner. “Of course! This is how we always started fires when we would go camping with Dad. Works every time!”

Blake eyed the growing stack of tinder skeptically. “Uh huh. And your family still has all their eyebrows?”

“Oh hardy harr.”

Blake watched the unlit campfire (now starting to look more like a bonfire) for a beat longer then rolled her eyes. “I’m going to check on the horses. Try not to singe anything.”

Yang gave her a thumbs up and a wink. “No promises.”

Blake stood up from the large log they were using as a seat and made her way to where the horses were tethered.

It had been nearly 3 months since moving back home to her parents horse farm and Blake found herself on a spontaneous camping trip with her parent’s farmhand, Yang. She’d sidled up to Blake while she was brushing Gambol and pitched her idea for an overnight stay out in the woods. It wasn’t anything unusual, Blake had been out camping on her family’s land before. The Belladonna’s owned nearly three hundred and fifty acres scattered with fishing ponds, hiking trails, and sprawling fields surrounding their horse rescue, and Blake had practically grown up outdoors.

Still, the idea of a night out under the stars – alone – with _Yang_ – made her nervous.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like the farm hand, far from it. She liked Yang a little _too much_.

Yang was patient, kind, funny, she had a killer smile, and Blake practically choked on her lemonade one morning when Yang came back from fixing a border fence and used the edge of her shirt to wipe the sweat from her forehead – flashing an impressive six pack.

Blake had caught herself making excuse after excuse to swing by wherever Yang happened to be working that day, dodging her mother’s knowing grin every time Blake tried to casually inquire about the farm hand.

She learned that Yang had grown up around horses too and was an accomplished equestrian – even competed a few times back in school. She’d shown Blake a few pictures of her as a gangly teenager standing proud beside a slender buckskin mustang. A mare she affectionately referred to as “Bumblebee”.

“She passed a few years ago from a respiratory infection.” Yang had said, her smile turning wistful. “I still miss her every day.”

A loud whooshing sound and a yelp from the direction of the fire pit jerked Blake out of her own head and she whipping around to see a roaring fire nearly three feet tall and Yang jerking back patting at her clothes. Blake jogged back to the fire pit in alarm. “Yang?! Are you alright?!”

Yang straightened up and brushed soot off the front of her flannel with forced nonchalance. “I’m alright. Nothing to it.” She gestured proudly to the roaring fire (thankfully shorter now) and Blake had a sudden mental picture of her childhood golden retriever “presenting” the dead rat they’d found in the barn.

“Uh, yeah. Looks nice.” Without thinking Blake licked her thumb and pinched a sizzling strand of hair by Yang’s temple. “And here I was worrying about what we were gonna roast marshmallows with.”

Yang blushed and rubbed the back of her neck. “Hehe, m-me too.”

* * *

“And that one’s ‘The Fisherman’.”

Blake gazed up at the night sky, following Yang’s finger as she traced the outline of a fish hook out of stars. “I think I see it...”

“That one’s my favorite.” Yang eyed her marshmallow hovering above the flames, starting to brown on one side. She casually flipped it over and hummed. “The Wolf is Ruby’s favorite.”

“And Ruby’s your sister right?”

“Yup.” Yang’s perfectly browned marshmallow suddenly burst into flames and she swore, yanking it out of the fire. “Ah, damn!”

“Here, I’ll trade you. I don’t mind the burnt ones.” Blake handed over her own stick with a perfectly browned marshmallow on the end.

Yang stuck her lip out in a pout but accepted the swap. “How do you do that? I always burn ‘em...”

“Practice. And patience.”

“Bah, humbug.” Yang rooted around in the plastic bag for the crackers and chocolate bars while grumbling. “I ain’t the patient type when it comes to s’mores.”

“Then you’re always gonna burn your marshmallows.” Blake nodded decisively.

“Okay, oh wise sage of the s’mores.” Yang squished the burnt marshmallow between two crackers and a piece of chocolate and presented it to Blake with the grace of a queen.

“Thanks.” Blake accepted the s’more and bit into it, humming at the taste of chocolate and crispy marshmallow on her tongue.

The fire crackled and spit sparks into the air. Blake watched them rise up to the starry night sky before they fizzled out and let out a bone deep sigh. “I’d almost forgotten what this felt like.”

“Yeah?” Yang brushed graham crackers off her chin with some clear embarrassment. “How so?”

Blake sat in thoughtful silence for a while before answering. “When I moved to the city I thought that I was taking back my freedom. I didn’t want to stay on this ranch forever – or at least that’s what I told myself.”

Blake tugged her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “My parents do good work here, and I respected that. But I wanted something more.”

Her arms tightened minutely. “But it turned out that I just traded one cage for another.”

Yang had gone quiet beside her, but her warm steady presence gave Blake the courage to continue.

“His name was Adam. We met in our writing class. He spoke so… passionately. Told me that we could change the world if we wanted to – if we worked together.”

Blake grit her teeth. “He had a tongue smoother than a rattlesnakes. Convinced me to move in with him after graduation. We both got jobs at a publisher’s office, but he quit after only a few weeks, claiming it just wasn’t ‘right for him’.”

Yang’s shoulder brushed hers, a gentle nudge meant to support rather than interrupt. Blake pushed back, a silent acknowledgment. “The first time he hit me, I told myself it was my fault. He apologized, told me it would never happen again. But it did. Again and again and again.”

Blake propped her chin on her own bent knee. “When he threw a glass cup at me and nearly took out my eye, I’d had enough. I threw everything I owned in a suitcase, called my mom for the first time in two years, and here I am.”

Yang nudged her shoulder again, but this time held out her trusty orange bandanna in offering. Blake hadn’t even realized there were tears streaming down her cheeks.

She accepted the bandanna and furiously wiped her cheeks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to dump this all on you...”

“Don’t be sorry. He sounds like a prick.” Yang furrowed her eyebrows. “None of that was your fault, Blake.”

“I know.” Blake gave a wet chuckle. “It’s taken a while, but I see that now.”

Yang carefully stretched out her arm to drape it over Blake’s shoulders, squeezing her against her side. Blake breathed deeply, taking in Yang’s scent of hay and crushed grass. “I’m… glad you shared that with me, Blake. That you felt like you could.”

Blake rubbed her eye and dropped her head onto Yang’s strong shoulder. “Can we go back to talking about stars? I liked that.”

Blake couldn’t see, but a smile spread across Yang’s face, soft and tender. “Sure.”


	4. Beehaw Week 2020 Day 4: Singing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daaaay 4 my lovelies! Todays prompt is short but sweet! I hope y'all are enjoying Beehaw Week as much as I am!
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading and I hope everyone is staying safe out there!

Blake grunted as she shoved her spade underneath a soiled patch of hay and heaved it into a waiting wheelbarrow. Her shoulders ached, her biceps burned, and their was a twinge in her lower back that was starting to get bothersome.

But the burn of her muscles felt good.

Mucking out stalls had never been her favorite chore, but ever since moving back home to her parents horse farm Blake found herself enjoying the work more and more. It was familiar and mind numbing, but kept her busy enough to keep her thoughts from spiraling into darker places.

Blake flipped her shovel over to scrape at a particularly stubborn patch of dried dung. A song leapt unbidden to the front of her mind and Blake started humming under her breath. It might have been a tune she’d caught Yang singing the other day or something she’d heard on her father’s ancient radio that morning, she didn’t know. But her humming turned into lyrics sung softly, with a slowly building volume.

“ _I said I wanna touch the earth, I wanna break it in my hands, I wanna grow somethin’ wild and unruly..._ ”

Leaning the shovel against the stall Blake gripped the handles of the wheelbarrow to push it out the door, still singing. “ _I wanna sleep on the hard ground, in the comfort of your arms, on a pillow of blue bonnets and a blanket made of stars..._ ”

Even the creaking of the wheelbarrow as Blake dumped the contents in the fertilizer pile wasn’t loud enough to drown out the song in her heart. “ _I said cowboy take me away! Fly this girl as high as you can into the wild blue..._ ”

The twine of a fresh hay bale dug into well worn grooves in her gloves. “ _Closer to heaven above and closer to you...closer to yo_ _oo_ _u._ ”

“Wow."

Blake almost dropped her armful of hay in surprise and she whipped around to see Yang leaning casually against the half open stall door with her chin propped up on one hand, an awestruck look on her face.

“How… how long have you been standing there?” Blake pivoted swiftly on her heel and busied herself with scattering her hay on the now clean stall floor.

“Not too long. Please don’t be embarrassed, you’ve got a beautiful singing voice. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable...”

Blake coughed slightly, hoping in vain that the flush on her cheeks wasn’t too obvious before finally looking up a the farm hand. “It’s alright, you just startled me. Aren’t you supposed to be out fixing the quarantine stall for the new arrival?”

“Yeah. I was stopping by because I’d left a few tools in here, when I thought I heard an angel.” Yang’s small smirk widened into a grin. “Turns out I was right.”

Blake rolled her eyes and picked up her shovel. “That was corny.”

“Yeah, but you liked it.” Yang stepped back to let Blake out, then reached out to graze a hand along Blake’s hip.

A bolt of electricity shot up Blake’s spine at the touch, filled with a dozen unspoken words. “Yang, I’ve been shoveling horse dung for the last three hours.”

Yang shrugged as she pressed against Blake’s front “Occupational hazard. I don't mind.”

“Oh?” Blake took several small steps backward until her back pressed against the barn wall. “Well why don’t you get over here and prove it?”

Yang grinned.


	5. Beehaw Week 2020 Day 5,6,7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake and Yang get in a bar fight, and Yang is a gay disaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo final day of Beehaw week folks! I fell a little behind on posting, I just combined the last three prompts into one story! Kiss, Dance, and Tavern/Drinks! This story fought me a little bit not gonna lie, but I really enjoyed the challenge of including 3 prompts in one, as well as the entire week! I'm even more of a beehaw fan than before, if that's possible!
> 
> Once again, I hope everyone is staying safe and healthy out there, and enjoy!

Yang stared down into the glass below her chin, watching the amber liquid swirl inside. The room had started to take on a fuzzy quality and the noise of the crowded tavern had long faded into the background.

A laugh split through the haze and Yang automatically swung her head in its direction, helpless against the pull of that beautiful sound.

There she was. Long dark hair that looked soft enough to run her hands through, a smile that stole the breath from Yang’s lungs every time. Warm amber eyes that almost seemed to glow gold when they caught the light...

“You could just talk to her, you know.”

Yang swiveled to blink blearily at the bartender. Pale hair, blue eyes, eyebrow lifted in a familiar look of disdain.

“It ain’t that easy Weiss.” Yang went back to staring at her glass, suddenly not too interested in finishing it.

She could almost hear Weiss roll her eyes. “She’s asked about you.”

That got Yang’s attention. “She has?!”

“Yeah.” A pale hand stretched to gently tug Yang’s unfinished glass out of her loose grip. “You’re not very subtle.”

Yang groaned crossed her arms to lean her forehead on. “What’d you tell her?”

“Just that you’re the daughter of the sheriff. And Ruby’s older sister.”

Yang peered at her long time friend. “Anythin’ else?”

“Nope.” Weiss shrugged as she swirled a cloth in Yang’s now empty glass. “I’m not going to do all the work for you.”

Yang groaned and went back to the shelter of her crossed arms.

This “silly crush” - as her sister had referred to it – was getting out of hand. Blake had been working at Weiss’s saloon for weeks now and Yang was hopelessly head-over-ass. Even though they’d only exchanged a handful of words since meeting, Yang was certainly _smitten_. She wanted to know everything about the woman, but Blake was tight-lipped about where she’d come from. Faunus were already a rare sight in Patch - the perfect storm for a small town rumor mill.

_It’s just a crush, she’s_ _just_ _a new face, you don’t even know her…_

Yang snuck another peek across the saloon at Blake, now chatting amicably with a table of off duty farm hands playing a rowdy game of poker with a tray of fresh drinks expertly balanced on one hand.

“Look, if I tell her you asked to dance with her, will you stop moping in my bar?”

Yang almost swallowed her own tongue. “W-what?! No! Don’t do that!”

Weiss looked unimpressed. “If you don’t, I will. Because she’s coming over this way.”

“What?!” Yang swiveled in her seat too fast and almost spilled out of it onto the floor, but a surprisingly strong grip on her upper arm held her upright and Yang found herself staring into the gold eyes of the very woman in question.

“Are you alright?” Blake asked, her voice sounding like what an angel might (Yang didn’t know, she wasn’t exactly the most devout church goer).

Yang gulped, suddenly all too aware that she probably smelled exactly like the two whiskeys she’d had. “Y-yes, I’m fine.”

Blake blinked, then pushed Yang up until she was seated more firmly on the bar stool and Yang almost swooned off it again.

“Alright, but go easy on those drinks. Don’t want to bust up that pretty face.” Then without another word Blake slid through the swinging doors to the back rooms.

Yang could feel how her own face practically glowed with heat. Weiss twisted her mouth and leveled another look in Yang’s direction. “That was painful.”

“Shut up.”

Weiss frowned and shoved another glass in Yang’s direction. “Here. I watered this one down for you.”

Yang grumbled but took the drink anyway. “I don’t need it watered down, Bumblebee knows the way home.”

“Yes, but I don’t want to have to tie you to your horse again.”

Yang gave an eye roll of her own, but only fools argued with Weiss Schnee, and Yang Xiao Long wasn’t a fool. Most of the time.

Blake slipped back into the bar, but Yang pointedly refused to look in her direction. If she had, she might have caught the pink flush of Blake’s cheeks or the way the bar maid glanced in her direction.

Another half hour passed. The band in the corner slowly began to grow quieter and the usual crowd left in a steady trickle until only a handful of patrons were left, including Yang and the gamblers in the corner. Yang had one more watered down drink before heaving a deep sigh. It was getting late and Ruby was probably wondering where she was…

There came a sudden loud scraping sound (resembling a gun shot in the quiet tavern) as two of the men in the corner leapt up from the their seats to start throwing wild swings at each other, most of them missing but some landing with worrying ferocity.

Yang watched Blake dart across the tavern to yank one of the men back by the collar of his shirt like she was breaking up two feral cats, shouting loud enough to be heard by the entire building. “Cut it out or take it outside!”

The other man stood, wobbly on his feet. He spit a glob of blood onto the floor and snorted. “Calm down, kitten. I was just teachin’ this cheatin’ _varmint_ a lesson.”

Yang felt the tension rise sharper than a knife and saw the pointed black ears atop Blake’s head swivel to lie flat against her hair. “ _What_ did you just call me?”

“Oooh the kitten’s got _claws_.” The man grinned through crooked teeth. “Why don’t you just be a good kitty and leave the men to their business?”

Yang was up and out of her seat before she could fully think it through. She still wasn’t entirely sober but her strides were steady as she studiously ignored Weiss’s hiss of her name from behind. “HEY!”

Numerous heads swiveled towards her at the shout, but Yang held her shoulders straight. “I think you should listen to the lady, Shay.”

Shay’s grin faltered for a moment. Yang’s reputation was well known around town – she wasn’t exactly a pushover. But alcohol and adrenaline makes fools out of even the smartest of folks, and Shay’s hesitation melted away and he scowled. “Stay outta this, Xiao Long. Don’t want mommy to come running.”

Yang tensed and couldn’t tell if the burning in her stomach was the anger or the alcohol. “You leave my mother out of this.”

Shay grinned and looked to his buddies (who only looked marginally ready to back him up) and spat again. “Ooh touchy, touchy. Sensitive topic is it?”

Yang grit her teeth and stepped toward Shay, fully intending to clock him in the jaw, when she felt a soft touch to her arm. Blake squeezed very lightly and spoke a single word of warning with her eyes. A subtle shake of her head. Yang stared for a beat, then let out a breath before turning back to Shay with her best impression of Weiss’s trademark disdain. “You ain’t worth my time.”

In a show of confidence she didn’t necessarily feel, Yang deliberately turned her back on the man and walked back toward the bar.

The whistle of something slicing through the air made her whip around just in time to catch a right hook to her cheek, sending her sprawling against a nearby table.

Yang lay propped up against the table for a moment, dazed. Then she shook her head and stood up touching her face with tender fingers. “You son of a _bitch_.”

Shay stood there with that damn grin of his. “Sounds like you’re the only one who -” _WHAM_

Shay’s gloating abruptly cut off when a bar stool exploded across his back – wielded like a mythical weapon by a fiery eyed Blake.

Shay crumpled to the floor with a surprisingly high pitched grunt, smacking his chin on the edge of a chair on the way down.

Yang threw up her fists in a well-practiced fighter’s stance when Shay’s cronies all started shouting and drunkenly lurching to their feet.

Blake held up the broken leg of her stool like it was a sword and bared her teeth in a snarl. Yang thought she’d never looked more beautiful.

_Click_

The distinctive sharp cocking of a gun made the room freeze. Weiss stood behind her bar, a long silver rifle propped against her shoulder. She narrowed cold blue eyes. “I think it’s time for you boys to hurry on home.”

One of the men grew pale. “Yes ma’am, sorry ma’am.” Quiet repeated apologies and the men shuffled closer, gathering a dazed Shay up against a shoulder. One the men even righted their chairs, knocked over in the initial disagreement. Still apologizing they left out the swinging saloon doors into the night.

Yang waited for half a second, then slumped, allowing her hands to fall to her sides. The sudden drain of adrenaline left her exhausted and she plopped down into the nearest chair. Blake slowly lowered her chair leg.

“Thanks, Weiss. That coulda gotten ugly.” Yang shrugged in the bartender’s direction.

Weiss had lowered her rifle but she glared hard at Yang all the same. “You idiot. Shay was just trying to bait you and you know it.

“And you!” Weiss leveled her icy glare at Blake, who hid the broken chair leg behind her skirts like a misbehaving child. “You owe me a new chair.”

Blake nodded and stared down at the ground, thoroughly cowed.

Weiss threw one last glare at them both, then turned away towards the back room, grumbling about having to sweep up and “emotionally constipated idiots.”

Yang flushed and hope desperately that Blake hadn’t heard that last comment, but judging by the color that bloomed on her own cheeks she had.

The two sat in awkward silence. Blake set her chair leg on the table gingerly, and the look of concentration on her face made Yang smile.

Unfortunately that smile stretched the tender skin of her cheek and Yang hissed through her teeth.

One of Blake’s ears perked up at the sound and she looked up, concerned. “You’re hurt?”

“Nah, I’ve had worse.” Yang shrugged and poked lightly at her skin. Damn, it was probably going to bruise.

“Let me look.” Before Yang could sputter out an objection Blake crossed the small space between them and took Yang’s chin in cool fingers, gently tilting it to the side and scrutinizing.

“Hmm, the skin isn’t broken, so I think you’ll survive.” Blake’s fingers lingered just the slightest too long on Yang’s skin before she finally let go.

“Thanks doc.” Yang gave her a shaky smile. “And you told me not to bust up my pretty face.”

Blake’s cheeks blushed bright red and she was suddenly very interested in a loose thread on her skirt. “Oh. Yeah, that was just… I was kidding.”

Yang let her own smile spread unbidden across her face, ignoring the throb of her newly acquired bruise. “So you don’t think I have a pretty face?”

It was Blake’s turn to sputter. “No! I mean… that’s not what I meant.”

“Hey, now. It’s alright. I’m teasing you.” Yang reached across the table to lay her hand on top of Blake's.

Blake stared down seemingly in surprise at their hands, then looked up to meet Yang’s eyes. Yang tried to pour every ounce of sincerity into her expression so Blake would know that she spoke the truth. Blake searched her eyes for a moment, then seemed to find what she was looking for. She gave a small nod and returned Yang’s smile.

Feeling suddenly awkward, Yang took her hand back and leaned back in her chair, trying to look casual. “So. Now that the ice has officially broken, I’m Yang.”

“I know who you are.” Blake looked up through her eyelashes. “Your sister stops by a few times a week to help out.”

“You know why she does right?” Yang leaned forward like she was sharing some secret, and Blake got closer too. Hearing Weiss come back into the main tavern, still grumbling, Yang inclined her head towards the bartender with a knowing smile and lowered her voice. “Ruby’s more interested in who she can find here than what.”

Blake blinked for a moment, then her eyes brightened. “Really?”

“Yep.” Yang smirked. “Ruby can’t keep secrets from her big sister.”

Blake flicked an ear toward Weiss. “I hadn’t even realized. I try not to listen to their conversations...”

“What are you two whispering about?” Weiss snapped, sharp enough to cut even from across the room.

“Nothin’. Just about me escorting Blake here home. Unless you need her here...”

Weiss waved her off. “Just get out, I can handle closing up. See you tomorrow, Blake.”

Blake coughed into her fist and curtsied politely. “Thank you Weiss. See you tomorrow as well.”

Yang held out her arm and Blake tucked her hand into the crook of her elbow, giving one last wave to Weiss. Neither Blake nor Yang caught the smug smirk on Weiss’s face as they exited the tavern into the night.

The street outside was deserted and Yang’s horse was the last one tethered to the outer post. Bumblebee lifted her head and nickered a greeting.

Yang expertly untied the horse’s lead from the hitching post. “Do you live far?”

“No, just a few houses down.”

“Calavera’s Boarding?”

“That’s the one.”

“Not far at all.” Yang offered her arm again. “Not too bad a night for a walk.”

Blake hesitated for only a moment, then returned to her previous spot with her hand tucked into Yang’s elbow. “Lead the way, cowgirl.”

Yang knew the town like the back of her hand, so even in the dark lit only by the broken moon above them they quickly reached the front porch of Calavera’s Boarding, one or two windows still lit up in warm yellow.

Yang cleared her throat and tried to push down the nervous energy suddenly bubbling in her belly. “Here we are.”

“Thank you so much for walking me home.” Blake didn’t let go of Yang’s arm. “And for defending my honor tonight.”

Yang was glad for the darkness of the night, because it hid the flush of her cheeks well. “I just did what any respectful woman would do. Shay is a real horse’s ass.” Bumblebee snorted right into Yang’s ear, making her flinch. “Oh, sorry girl.”

Blake chuckled, and Yang wanted to keep hearing that sound forever. “Well, you’re not wrong.”

The two women stood for a moment longer, the prospect of separating not appealing in the slightest to either of them.

Finally Blake cleared her throat and extracted her hand. “Thank you, again.”

“No problem.” The spot on her arm where Blake had rested her hand felt like it was tingling.

Blake turned to walk up the steps and made it almost halfway before Yang blurted out. “Hey, wait!”

Blake stopped and turned, eyes glowing. “Yes?”

Fighting back a sudden bout of shyness, Yang swallowed against her parched throat. “Did you maybe wanna grab a drink with me sometime?”

Blake’s ears perked up and a bright smile spread across her face. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Yang returned a grin of her own. “Okay.”

Blake seemed to consider something, glancing up the steps to the door and back down to Yang. Then she turned and skipped down the steps to lean up on her toes and peck a kiss to Yang’s cheek.

“See you then.” Blake spun on her heel and sprinted up the steps, giving one last shy wave before closing the door behind her.

Yang stood frozen at the base of the steps, the spot where Blake had kissed her tingling like she’d been struck by lightning. It took Bumblebee to nudge the back of her shoulder for Yang to come to, blinking rapidly. Her smile turned dopey and she turned to her horse. “Didja see that?! She said yes!!”

Yang swung up into Bumblebee’s saddle, feeling like she could take off and fly. “Come on girl, let’s go home.”


End file.
